The Charcoal Eyes in the Drawing
by Carolare Scarletus
Summary: For years, her eyes haunted his dreams. One night in the Astronomy Tower, Tom Riddle decides to make her into a living, breathing woman, but it ends in tragedy when he has to end the life he's given her.


**Team:** Wimbourne Wasps

 **The theme:** K-drama - Are You Human Too? Theme - finding out someone was not the same species(you know what I mean) as you (for e.g. Muggles finding out about wizarding folk or a witch/wizard finding out someone they thought was the same as them was a werewolf).

 **Prompts:** (song) Let's Not Fall in Love - BIGBANG; (dialogue) "And then I wondered... why do they need fixing? Everyone and everything is broken

in some way anyway."; (theme) falling in love with the wrong person/thing

 **Player:** Chaser 2

 **Word count:** ( Excluding Author's Note, but including entire Entry and Title)

 **Warning:** This is an AU (Alternate Universe) piece.

 **Characters:** Tom Riddle

 **Summary:** For years, her eyes haunted his dreams. One night in the Astronomy Tower, Tom Riddle decides to make her into a living, breathing woman, but it ends in tragedy when he has to end the life he's given her.

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 **The Charcoal Eyes in the Drawing**

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Tom Riddle traced the slender column of her neck, watching as the tip of his finger grazed the delicate feature of her clavicle before disappearing beneath the charcoal imprint of her curly hair. He'd just gotten the texture of her hair right before something about her features caught his eye. Such sad, lifeless golden eyes stared back at him. He'd been working on this masterpiece for quite some time, drawing out the soft features of the woman in his dreams, fleshing her out with each measure stroke of his oil paints. She was a prisoner trapped in a cage of his own creation, with nothing but the gentle caress of his brushes to keep her alive. Tom didn't know where this dream originated from, but he was determined to breathe life to the woman in the oil pastel painting.

The Astronomy Tower was dead this time of night. Not a single spirit dwelled within its deceptive chambers, and even the owls didn't pay it any attention during their nightly search for substance. It was the perfect place to escape, a place that Tom cherished ever since he discovered it his first year at Hogwarts. It provided the perfect view of the Forbidden Forest, and if he situated himself correctly upon its formidable edge, he could just make out the Black Lake. It was nearing midnight when her features finally took shape, and as he drew, Tom couldn't help but be drawn back to her lifeless eyes.

The look in her eyes, the hollowness, and one-dimensional void of her eyes used to be so vibrant and deep according had lost its finery. Even though it had been years. Tom remembered clear as day. His first encounter with the woman had been on the train to Hogwarts. He was sitting in a carriage all by himself when her first illustration came to life. It was a blurry image with no redeeming features. But, alas, he'd fallen in love with something completely different from his own. The years were remarkably generous with him. Over the years, he had gained confidence and lost his childish beliefs and customs. He was now a part of the notable society in which his family belonged to. Tom was far from the cowering boy in the halls but a man that how earned respect from a large group of admirers.

So, why was he obsessed with the drawing?

Tom stopped drawing altogether, looking at the pieces of parchment as if he was looking at it for the first time. His beauty's eyes weren't as captivating as he'd remembered; the resemblance of life was extraordinary present but he couldn't feel it, even though the enchantments he'd placed on it the month before. Tom wasn't a stranger to sleepless night; he spent most of his time daydreaming, living in a fantasy world that was so unlike his own.

He longed for her to be real.

"Why is that you do not exist?" he asked the drawing, taking his thumb and smudging the corner of her lip and watching the charcoal become more embedded into the parchment. "I have drawn you from a memory of my dreams, given you a place to dwell and breathed life into you with my brushes and oils." He looked about the assortment of colorful utensil in which he used to illustrate her on his expense canvas. The array of colorful oils and paints hadn't been enough, and he wanted to know why. With a frown, Tom looked back at her and said, "Yet, you are not alive? How is that so? Do you not wish to meet me and live among the inhabitants of my world?"

Of course, Tom didn't expect the drawing to answer back.

She never did.

Tom leaned back against the wall, dropping his hand from the canvas.

He looked out at the scenery, wondering how it was possible to capture the midnight sky as the stars twinkled above but it was near impossible to capture the woman in his dreams. As he sat there, his thoughts were instantly brought back to the drawing. Tom had desperately hoped it work this time. He'd come to the Astronomy Tower almost every night in hopes that his drawing, the love of his miserable life, would come into existence. A horrible sensation befell him and he snarled, spewing words he didn't dream of ever finding the hidden meaning too.

It had been deathly wrong of her to do it.

He knew the moment that their eyes met that they would be forever connected by some unbreakable string. Even Tom suspected she knew that. But, as it turned out, their worlds were far too different and it was only known he demonstrated just how desperate he was.

"What is it that you're looking for, Riddle?" an airy voice asked from afar.

Tom turned his head, meeting the gaze of his unexpected visitor.

She came to him like a dream, gliding against the stone floor before stopping to meet him. Her glowing eyes pierced his very core and for a moment he was taken aback.

"Why do you keep doing this to yourself?"

"I do it to myself," he began calmly, standing from his position on the ledge," because you are not real." His canvas dropped down onto the floor, along with his assortment of pencils and brushes.

Tom looked at the magnificently painted woman as she appeared before him in all her splendor. He'd wished upon all the stars in the sky for her to be real, and now that she was standing there right in front of him, he didn't know what to do.

Tom looked murderous, ready to strike against anyone who dared challenge him, but it was the look in her eyes that prevailed most vividly in his mind.

"I am real."

"Only in my imagination, love," he confessed to her bitterly. Tom ran his fingers through his dark hair before capturing her gaze again. "I have wanted to meet you for the longest time..."

"Now that you have, what will you do?"

"I will love you… that is all I can do."

"Even if you have to erase me completely?" His creation asked with a noticeable shiver.

Tom thought for a moment, his heartbreaking. It had been a mistake for falling in love with something that didn't dwell in the same realm as him. Love did a great number of foolish things to them, and trying to fix someone was one of them.

"It would not be fair to you," he finally told her. "I tried to fix you and mold you into the perfect model. And then I wondered... why do they need fixing? Everyone and everything is broken in some way anyway.", so why am I trying to create something perfect when the notion does not exist in my realm?"

The woman didn't answer.

Instead, all she did was smile before vanishing altogether.


End file.
